Making Waves
by Abscise Jeers
Summary: Nell loses a bet and ends up spending a day at the beach with our favorite blond techie.


**Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS LA. I only like to borrow the characters now and then.**

**Author's Note: This is just a little one-shot (possibly two-shot) that I came up with. It has minimal plot but is full of fluffy techie love, which we don't have enough of. I normally write for "The Mentalist," so this is my first time writing for NCIS LA. I hope everyone seems decently in character . . . Happy Reading! **

**Making Waves:**

**"My life is like a stroll on the beach...as near to the edge as I can go."**

**-Thoreau**

Damn, it was hot outside. Not the normal heat of California in mid-June, but a humid, almost musky heat that covered LA like a blanket. When did it get so hot? Just yesterday it was a comfortable 75 degrees, and yet today felt more like August's mid 90's. And how on earth had she gotten herself into such a predicament, anyway? And when had she gained so much weight? That chestnut brown two-piece bathing suit fit last year, she was sure of it! She still looked okay, she supposed. Then why did she suddenly feel so insecure? She should feel fantastic. She was out of the office. There hadn't been a high-profile murder in over a week. There hadn't been an act of terror in over two weeks . . . not even a measly little bomb threat. The sun was shining, the grass was green, the sand was. . . sand, and yet something felt off. He stomach was twisted into a horrible knot, a tell-tale sign that her anxiety was getting the best of her. She'd rather be back in OP's than be putting this ridiculous get-up on, in order to make a complete fool of herself.

"Nell, are you ready yet? Hurry up! It's going to get crowded!" That's when she heard him . . . Her partner's voice, telling her to hurry up. "Partner," was a interesting word. She wouldn't really consider them partners. She thought of them more like "individuals who occasionally work towards a common goal." He always thought of her as his partner, regardless of the fact that their partnership began by Hetty thrusting them together and telling them to work. She remembered her first day in OP's, and how Eric was less than pleased about the situation. Maybe that's why she still finds it hard to believe that he cares about her now.

Still, there are times when he looks at her, and she can't shake the "cared for" feeling that she gets . . . or the chills . . . or the butterflies . . . and yet she chooses to ignore them. She knows that he couldn't possibly think about her like that. He was her friend. She could consider Eric Beale many things, her pep-talk giver (even if she is way better at that than he is), her confidante, her bounce board, her team member . . . but she couldn't even imagine adding the "B-word" to that list. She hadn't had a relationship in over two years . . . she hadn't had a meaningful relationship in . . . ever. Her seven year obsession with the TV show LOST was the longest relationship she had ever been in.

"Come on, Nell. It's getting busy . . . and we both know about how well you function in crowds!" She smiled to herself even though she knew he was right. She breathed a calming breath before slipping on her sandals and grabbing her beach bag.

"Alright, alright," she said, opening the door to the changing station, and finding Eric impatiently playing with his phone. He was standing there, looking the same as always, wearing blue swim trunks, and a red t-shirt with flip-flops. He had a surfboard propped up on the bench behind him, and had an orange bag slung over his shoulder. She smiled hesitantly as she pulled and tied her white cover-up tighter around her.

"About time," he said smiling, "I thought maybe you were in there digging an escape tunnel or something." She laughed.

"Actually, it probably would have been a better use of my time. Surfing really isn't my sport," Nell replied.

"Well it will be by the end of the day!" Eric declared, in an almost overly sincere fashion. Eric, grabbing his board under left arm, offered her his right. Almost surprised at his chivalry, she took it as they walked toward the opposite side of the beach.

"I'm kind of glad you lost the bet. We never get to hang out just the two of us," Eric regarded, in a voice no higher than a loud whisper.

"I didn't lose. You cheated," Nell said in a mock-accusation, nudging him with her shoulder. His jaw dropped as she smiled at him sweetly.

"You're just mad because you will NEVER beat me at Call of Duty," he interjected.

"I let you win because I murdered you at Mario Cart," Nell pointed out matter-of-factly. Eric couldn't even believe it. She could never just let him win. Never. It always had to be a competition with her. Why did she have to win all the time? It was doing nothing for his ego. Just once, he would like her to admit defeat. However, how could he possibly be mad at her? Look at her . . . with her hazel eyes that seemed to swirl with greens and grays . . . and her lips . . .which he had been staring at since the first day that she trotted into OP's like she owned the building. It was only when he noticed that her cheeks were pinker than normal that he realized that he had been staring.

She was still walking forward, but her eyes were cast downward toward the sand. Eric never understood how she could do that to him. She was frustrating, and aggravating, nerve-racking, and borderline obnoxious . . . and beautiful, and sexy, and intelligent, and funny, and charming, and kind, and brave . . . and somehow she still had this amazing ability to reduce him to a puddle with one bat of her eyelashes. And Eric knew that the most amazing thing about her, is that she did this to him completely unintentionally. She wasn't one of those people who flaunted around just for fun, flirting with everyone they came in contact with. She was as innocent in his growing obsession as the day Hetty introduced her to him.

"Beaches aren't really my thing," she said suddenly, knocking him out of his daze. He smiled at her reassuringly.

"It's not that hard. It just takes some practice. You'll pick it up in no-time." He said, sitting his board down when they reached a spot of nearly empty beach. She shook her head.

"What if I fall off?" She asked nervously.

"I'll catch you," he said sincerely.

"No you won't," she replied half laughing.

"I'll try and catch you." He reworded after seeing her disbelief. He knew odds are he wouldn't catch her; however it wasn't like he was tossing her into giant sized waves. She was going to be fine.

"Plus, there is nothing like a few gulps of ocean water to cleanse the soul! Come on, let's go. We're burning daylight!" He said, removing his shirt and casting it at their beach-bags. Hesitantly, she undid her cover-up and stuffed it into her bag. Why was she so nervous? Kensi walked around half dressed, half the time. Well, she was Kensi, that's why. Still, she wished bathing suits came with more fabric. As they waded into the water, she instantly felt uneasy.

"Seriously, I'm more of a sandcastle architect." She said instantly, as she felt the water reach her hips. Eric just laughed .

"The bet was, that if I won, you went surfing with me . . . and from what I know, you can't do that on the beach." he said, shaking his head.

"But I can watch from the beach. . ." she interjected, which he just ignored.

"Okay, we just need to go out a little further . . . step 2 is sitting on the board," he replied. Once she was sitting he came behind her to position her. The minute that he was about to put his hands on her waist to push her downward into position she let out a shriek.

"What? What? Are you okay? I didn't even touch you!" He said assessing her, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Something touched me! A fish or something!" He looked her and bust up laughing.

"Nell, we're in the ocean! There are fish in here!" He said almost falling over, finding her revelation amusing. She looked at him meanly and replied, "No, I read that with the splashing around, fish don't come this close to the beach!"

"Well then I don't know! Don't worry about it!" He replied still chuckling. Her jaw dropped at his lack of concern.

"I'm telling you something touched me. I don't want to end up like that girl on "Soul Surfer," Eric!"

"WHAT? Nell, there are no sharks this close to the beach!"

"That's what you said about the fish!" She retorted.

"No, that's what you said about the fish! I never claimed there aren't fish in the ocean." She shook her head and let out another yelp.

"It touched me again! It's circling!" She said looking at him, eyes filled with panic. Then he realized, and shifted position.

"Does it feel like this?" He said, brushing his leg against her dangling foot. She instantly pulled her feet up onto the board.

"Yes!" She squealed. He instantly busted up laughing. He hadn't realized that he had even touched her, let alone was the cause of all of her emotional anguish.

"That's my leg!"

"Oh," she replied feeling like an idiot. He saw her shy away from him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that I had touched you. I should have paid more attention. I didn't mean to upset you," he apologized. She instantly felt better, and shoved him playfully on the shoulder.

"I may have over-reacted . . . a little," she admitted. He smiled and replied, "A little?"

"Shut up, Eric, "she grinned, and without thinking, she splashed him. And the minute that the water hit his face. she could tell that it was on. He splashed her back, and she splashed him back, and she laughed louder at the faces he was making than she had in her whole life. Then suddenly, he was gone. She looked around for him, beginning to worry that he got pulled out by a rip tide, when suddenly she felt her body tip forward. Suddenly everything was wet, and blue, and muffled. It took her all of 10 seconds to realize that he tipped the board and that she was now underwater. Then she felt her top half being pulled back up. He turned her around to face him, his hands holding her around her sides.

"Nell! Nell! Are you okay? I thought you saw me." He said once again apologetically. She coughed and smiled at him. When had they gotten so comfortable being so close? And when did his eyes get so blue? And who knew that he had so much muscle underneath his hoodies and button up shirts? His eyes narrowed as she smiled, still trying to figure out if she was okay. When did he suddenly become everything to her? When did he start being the main reason that she liked coming to work? When had she started feeling a tug of separation when they were given individual assignments? When had she started to dread the weekends? When had she started caring more about what he thought of her than what she thought of herself? She guessed it all happened around the same time that realized she was in love with him . . . and that had been a while ago.

She only jolted when he scooped her up and walked her back to sand. Apparently, he figured that they had had about enough for the day. The sun was setting and it was casting its light onto the ocean. They sat down once they got back to their bags. They hadn't spoken a word, but somehow ended up sitting together on the beach waiting for it to get dark. The funny part was, that this was what she wanted to do all day. He sat beside her, not too close, but closer than if they were strangers.

He glanced along her neck, seeing the beaded strap of her swimsuit. She was stunning. He didn't tell her that, because he knew that she didn't think so. She'd only argue with him anyway. Still, now apparently more confident, she sat leaning back and sprawled for him to see. His eyes cascaded down from her shoulder to her toes. He could only imagine kissing every inch of her pale skin, and had to look away to keep from drooling. She noticed, he could tell. She instantly pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees.

"So . . . surfing really isn't your thing," he said, breaking the tension. She smiled, but continued staring at the ocean.

"No. I'm afraid you wasted your day," she concluded. He couldn't believe she would say such a thing.

"How so?" he asked with complete sincerity. She looked at him almost sadly.

"Well, you didn't get to surf . . . I didn't get any closer to learning –"Eric interjected, " I had more fun today than I have had in a long time. I thought it was fun . . . you didn't have fun?"

"No, of course I had fun. I love spending time with you," she revealed. Woops. She hadn't meant to say that.

"You do?" He said excited. "I felt like I was forcing you."

"Well . . . you did force me . . . I lost a bet . . . "she trailed off. Then realizing how it sounded, she quickly added, "but if I was going to lose a bet to anyone, I'm glad it was you. I had fun. "

"Too bad about your foot," he joked. At first, she didn't get it.

"Huh?" Nell replied

"You know . . . getting attacked by that big scary fish," he concluded. She looked at him finally understanding.

"You're horrible, Mr. Beale. Plus, I cannot help it that you can't control yourself," she said, of course making it his fault.

"I think you just wanted an excuse to touch my leg," he joked. She laughed.

"That would explain the shrieks of horror," she retorted. Eric sat in the sand sniffing like he was thoroughly hurt by her comment.

"Oh come on, I was kidding . . ." she said, moving to his side and laying her head on his shoulder. He ignored her, turning, making her work for it.

"Come on, Eric," she pleaded as she play slapped him on the chest. He play-sniffed again.

"No, no, my partner doesn't love me anymore. I see how it is. No love at all," he chimed in with a mock-serious tone.

"That's . . . not . . . true," Nell stuttered. Before she knew it he had flipped her over, his body hovering over hers, and his eyes piercing her.

"You love that we're partners," he said, not really thinking about what he was saying. She smiled. His hands tickled her sides as she squirmed beneath him.

"Okay, okay . . . okay," she said, "stop." Finally, as he stilled, she reached up to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. He couldn't do anything but watch her. The sides of her mouth tugged, like she wanted to smile. Her fingers traced the length of his jaw, before pulling his lips to hers. It was soft at first . . . it was innocent, like the two of them . . . like their "R-word." It was soft and fantastic, and amazing, and sweet, and geeky, and wonderful. It was everything that she had been imagining for two years now.

He couldn't even believe it. He had to get her out into the fresh air more often. His Nell was in the process of kissing him senseless. His partner was accosting his lips, and he was avidly participating. Who the hell was he anyway? Marty Deeks? This was not supposed to be happening. However, he wasn't about to stop it. He had been dreaming about this every night for two years. And he had her, for real, pinned beneath him. He took his time kissing his way from her earlobe to her collarbone. Yep. He crossed that line. You can play off a kiss . . . oh it was an accident . . . this was no accident. This was adrenaline and want, and need.

BUZZ . . . BUZZ . . . BUZZ . . . it was Eric's phone going off in the bag beside them. They both stopped and flushed and giggled.

"Get it," Nell said shoving at his shoulder. He looked at her in disbelief.

"I'm busy. It'll go to voicemail," he replied.

"Get it, it might be Hetty," she repeated. He whined as he stopped musing and answered.

"Mr. Beale, I hope you and Miss Jones are having a nice time at the beach, however we have a case. I'll see you both in 15 minutes?" Henrietta Lange hung up the phone. Eric just stood there in a state of shock.

"That _was _Hetty. Did you check in with her today?" Eric asked sounded frazzled. Nell looked at him quizzically.

"No, why?" Nell replied. Eric bit his lip. Shit. He hadn't either.

"We've got to go. We've got a case."

*No matter what the case, it's a sure **bet **that Henrietta Lange will spoil the moment.*

**~It just kind of came to me, and I thought it was kind of cute. Like I said it has no plot at all . . . just fluffy goodness. I may make it a two-shot if it gets a decent response. It may be fun to see them acting awkward around Hetty. Feedback is appreciated!**


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